


Of Explosives

by sharkie335



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bruce is better at talking about feelings than Tony, Frottage, M/M, intracrural, non-graphic descriptions of PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:53:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5897275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce, Tony, PTSD, insomnia, explosives, and sex.  In that order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Explosives

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to cruisedirector for the beta!

Tony woke gasping for air. It took longer than he liked to admit before it no longer felt like his lungs were full of water, like he could hear the sounds of men laughing and swearing in another language. He’d sweated through the sheets, and he shuddered at the clammy feel of them against his skin. 

He had nightmares more often than not, which was one of the big reasons that he and Pepper had split up. He knew that Pepper still loved him - she made a point of telling him that frequently - but she couldn’t stand by and watch as he refused to get help for his PTSD. Even losing her, though, couldn’t bring him to a shrink’s office, for them to stick their fingers in his brain and meddle.

Pushing the covers away, he twisted to sit on the side of the bed, his face resting in his hands as he tried to regulate his breathing. When he finally felt like he could move without throwing up, he stood up. He ran options through his head - he could shower and change the sheets and try (futilely) to get more sleep. Or he could just get dressed and head down to the shop, where he had the armor and his bots and JARVIS.

No contest.

Throwing on a hoodie over his tank top, and pulling on a pair of already filthy jeans, he made his way to the back staircase and down to the lab. On the way there, he had to pass the space that he’d given over to Bruce, which should have been dark. _Should_ have been, but wasn’t. The lights were on, and Bruce was sitting at one of the benches, hunched over a piece of equipment.

He paused for a moment outside, wondering if maybe Bruce had had a breakthrough in something he’d been working on, something so good that it had kept him awake. But then he noticed Bruce’s hair, which was a tangled mess, like he’d been dragging his hands through it repeatedly, and the hunched way he was sitting. He’d seen that sight several times before, and knew that it meant that Bruce was having his own issues sleeping. They’d hung out together a couple of times - once watching a movie, and once Tony had watched as Bruce eviscerated several articles in a physics journal. They didn’t actually talk, but it was… nice to have someone near by when the dark felt dangerous.

Knocking on the door lightly, he waited until Bruce turned around and looked at him. Tony pointed at the door and then arched an eyebrow, trying to telegraph that he wanted to come in. Bruce shrugged and mouthed the word “Sure,” so Tony opened the door and stepped in.

There was Indian pop music playing softly, and the faint smell of some sort of spicy food in the air. Tony wondered if Bruce was homesick for Calcutta. But asking would be too much, too intimate. So instead, he said, “Working on anything good?”

“Mostly just spinning my wheels,” Bruce said with a sigh. “I need to sleep, but, well - “

Tony chuckled, but the sound was forced. “Yeah, but. Sleeping isn’t always everything it’s cracked up to be.”

Bruce’s eyes looked bruised with exhaustion as he met Tony’s gaze. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“Not a chance in hell,” Tony said. Then he realized that _Bruce_ might have asked because _he_ wanted to talk about it. “How about you?”

“Same old worries,” Bruce said. “That one day the Other Guy is going to forget friend from foe and I’m going to hurt one of you.”

Tony wanted to argue - they’d been in enough fights at this point that they knew that Hulk wasn’t going to intentionally harm any of the team. But his own nightmares were no more logical than Bruce’s, and he knew that the arguments he could make were pointless. So he just nodded and leaned against the lab bench.

“How about we find something we can blow up and pretend that we’re not avoiding our nightmares?” he asked.

Bruce’s laugh was a bit more genuine, and he nodded. “That sounds like a plan. Any ideas?”

“Well, I’ve been working on some explosives for Cap and Natasha to carry,” Tony said. “I mean, Clint, Thor, and I can all blow stuff up, and you don’t need to. Seems unfair to me.”

“You definitely have a point. I assume we need to go to your labspace, though, since I don’t think you bomb-proofed my walls.”

“They’re designed to hold up to the Hulk,” Tony said, as he turned and opened the door. “A little explosion shouldn’t even challenge them. But all of the supplies are in my corner of the world, so, yes, we should.”

Tony’s lab was just down the hall from Bruce’s, but was easily three times the size. As he keyed open the door, the lights came on and Butterfingers and Dummy woke up in their charging stations. 

“Good evening, sir, Doctor Banner,” JARVIS said. “Is there a project that you’re planning to work on this morning?” His voice was distinctly disrespectful, and Tony knew it was because JARVIS felt that he needed more sleep.

“Such snark, JARVIS,” Tony said with a grin. “Yes, pull up the schematics for the Meson Grenade so that Doctor Banner can look at them.”

“Should you be working on explosives at four in the morning, sir?” JARVIS asked even as the schematics appeared in midair. 

“JARVIS really is different with you,” Bruce said. “I don’t catch any of this from him - I can’t even get him to call me Bruce.”

“Come on, JARVIS. We’ve had the conversation about calling people what they want to be called,” Tony said.

“I am simply trying to be respectful, Doctor Banner,” JARVIS said. “Though if you’re going to join sir in late night explosion fests, perhaps I _should_ call you Bruce.”

Tony clutched his hands to his chest. “Dissing both of us, now? Where did you learn to be so rude?”

“I _do_ spend most of my time with you, sir,” JARVIS said.

Tony would have said something else very clever, but he was interrupted by Bruce practically wheezing in laughter. “You two put on a real show,” he gasped out between guffaws. “I don’t know how I’ve missed it before.”

“Join me in my insomnia, Bruce, and you’ll get all the AI insolence you can handle.” Tony couldn’t help grinning at Bruce. Some of it was probably exhaustion, but it was nice to see him laughing so heartily instead of his normal mild chuckle.

“I may take you up on that. Now, we have explosions to design?” Bruce asked, as his breathing slowed.

“Yeah. As you can see, I’m working on something about the size of half dollar coin that could take out something the size of a car. The explosive itself I’ve got down. It’s the triggering device that I’m still working on.”

“Are you looking for something that explodes based on time or a trigger?” Bruce asked as he examined the schematics more closely. 

“Ideally, something that can be used either way,” Tony said. “I’ve done similar things with larger bombs, but miniaturizing the explosive requires reducing the size of the trigger switch as well. And Cap wears those gloves, so the switch needs to be able to be done with those on.”

“I can see the problem.” Bruce enlarged part of the schematic, looking more closely at where the detonator was connected to the explosive. 

The two of them worked on the trigger, tossing ideas back and forth, and under their hands, a workable schematic came to life. It was a little larger than Tony had originally envisioned, but not by much. And the switch that would determine what would set off the detonator was large enough that Cap would be able to operate it even in his gauntlets.

When Tony sent the plans to the fabrication units for a prototype, JARVIS said, “I know that neither of you is likely to sleep, but perhaps I could convince you to eat something. It _is_ eight in the morning.”

Tony glanced at the clock. In a room with no windows, like his lab, it was easy to lose track of time. But JARVIS was right - it was few minutes past eight.

“He’s probably right,” Bruce said, and then he smothered a yawn behind his hand. “And it’s going to take the fabricators an hour or so to make the prototype, right?”

“Yeah. JARVIS, is anyone in the communal kitchen?” Tony asked.

“Everyone but Master Thor is present right now,” JARVIS answered after a split second pause.

Damn. It was one thing to interact with Bruce like this. It was another to see the rest of the team, especially mother-hen Rogers. “I’ve got eggs and bread in my kitchen,” he said. “Unless you _want_ to be lectured about staying up all night, we should probably avoid the team kitchen.”

“Yeah, I don’t feel like hearing it either.” Bruce rubbed one eye sleepily. “Of course, he won’t actually be wrong.”

“Which we can never let him know, or we’ll never hear the end of it,” Tony said, guiding Bruce out of the lab and towards the elevator at the end of the hall. His rooms were only two floors away, but he didn’t think he could make without tripping over his own feet.

In his kitchen, the light pouring through the windows was blinding. “JARVIS, dim the windows, would you?”

JARVIS didn’t bother to answer. The opacity of the windows increased, however, and the light felt less like it was trying to stab Tony through the eyes. He pulled eggs and cheese out of the fridge, and pointed the bread box out to Bruce. He knew better than to let Bruce cook anything more complicated than toast. “Scrambled eggs with cheddar okay?”

“Sounds good,” Bruce said, and as he started toasting the bread and the frying pan heated, Tony cracked the eggs, whisking them with a fork. He could make scrambled eggs in his sleep - in fact, he was fairly certain that he’d done just that on more than one occasion - and by the time Bruce had a neat snack of buttered toast, he was sprinkling the shredded cheese over the scrambled eggs.

Once the cheese was melted, he served them up, giving the lion’s portion to Bruce, who had to eat to keep up with his metabolism. JARVIS had brewed coffee, so there was no delay to make that, and both of them fell on the food like they hadn’t eaten for a week. For several minutes there were just the sounds of chewing and sipping coffee.

When they were finished, Tony stacked the dishes in the sink, knowing that housekeeping would take care of them. Bruce gave a jaw-cracking yawn, one that Tony found himself imitating. 

“I guess I should go take a nap,” Bruce said.

“You know, my bed is huge,” Tony said. “And if you stay here, you won’t run into Rogers on your way back to your apartment.” Tony had no idea what he was doing - he just knew that he didn’t want to be by himself right now, and if Bruce left he’d wind up back in the lab.

And they both really needed sleep.

“Are you sure?” Bruce asked.

“I’m sure,” Tony answered, and without thinking, he reached out and took Bruce by the hand, leading him back to the bedroom.

JARVIS must have hoped that Tony would be willing to take a nap, because housekeeping had already been by and remade the bed, leaving it neat and clean as opposed to the sweaty tangled mess he’d left earlier that morning.

He let go of Bruce’s hand and started to strip out of his hoodie and jeans, noting in passing that Bruce was doing the same. When he was down to his tank top and briefs, he paused, and then figured it was good enough. Lifting the covers on the side of the bed, he slid under them. The bed dipped as Bruce did the same thing on the other side.

Once they were both settled, he said, “JARVIS, wake us in three hours.”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS responded.

Tony closed his eyes, and was almost instantly asleep.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he blinked himself awake. He was _immediately_ aware that he wasn’t alone in the bed, however, because whoever - Bruce, that’s right, it was _Bruce_ \- was pressed up against his back, his arm wrapped around Tony’s chest and holding him tightly.

Tony wasn’t used to being the little spoon even in cases where he expected cuddling, but this felt good, felt _safe_ , so he didn’t try to get away. He just pressed back into Bruce’s embrace, and _hello_ , that was little Bruce poking him in the asscheek. Feeling that made him realize that he was more than a little hard himself, and the temptation to take himself in hand was almost unbearable. He reached down and gave himself one quick stroke.

“Mmm,” Bruce murmured, clearly still asleep, and Tony wanted him to stay that way as long as he needed it, so he didn’t shift again, even though he was tempted. He just closed his eyes and let himself doze in Bruce’s arms.

He knew the moment that Bruce woke up, because suddenly his hips jerked backwards, putting space between them. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice rough. “It’s fine, Bruce.”

“How is it okay that I was molesting you in your sleep?” Bruce asked, but his arm didn’t move, as if he wasn’t even aware that he was still holding Tony in place.

“You weren’t molesting me. And if you want to pretend that this never happened, we can do that,” Tony let his words drag out, hoping that Bruce would ask -

“Or, what?” Bruce asked.

Thank god.

“Or I could do something about the little, or not so little, actually, problem that you’re having. Of course, I’d appreciate some help with a problem of my own,” he said.

Bruce’s hips moved forward again, the movement slow and tentative, but the hand that slipped along Tony’s side and down to his groin was much less hesitant. He wasn’t fully hard, but there was definite interest there, interest that there was no way that Bruce was going to be able to deny.

As Bruce cupped Tony’s cock in his hand, Tony groaned a little. God, it had been since Pepper left that he’d had anyone else touch him like this, and it was _so good_. “Nice,” he said. Reaching back, he gripped Bruce’s hip and tugged him forward, so that Bruce’s cock was sliding right along his ass crack.

“You know, this might be nicer if we lost the clothes,” Tony said. He didn’t really want Bruce to stop touching him, but now that he’d been touched he couldn’t help but want bare skin on bare skin.

“If you’re sure,” Bruce said.

“So very sure,” Tony said. And with that, they were both squirming under the blankets to get their t-shirts and briefs off. Once they were both naked, Tony reached out, trying to get right back to where they had left off, but Bruce paused and pulled away a little. “Have you been planning this?” Bruce asked.

Tony wasn’t sure what to say, so he did what Pepper always told him to do - he told the truth. “Not… exactly? Had vague thoughts, maybe a few hopes, but I didn’t do anything to set this up, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“You know I’m not safe to do this with, right?” Bruce asked, and his eyes were serious and sad. 

Not wanting that look to stick around on Bruce’s face, Tony reached out and ran his fingers down Bruce’s cheek. “None of us are safe to do this with,” he said. “But I know the risks and what I’m getting in to. Do you?”

“I just - I can’t do a one night stand, Tony. I’d rather have you as a friend than the awkwardness that would come with that.” But Bruce didn’t push Tony’s hand away. In fact, he rested his own right on top of Tony’s, as if he was trying to hold it in place.

“Who said anything about a one night stand?” Tony asked. “I know I didn’t. I mean, if that’s all you wanted, I’d accept it, but ask Pepper - I can do relationships. Not well, mind you, but I’m willing to try again.”

“So, what, we try dating? Or are we going to skip that part?” Bruce sounded less sad, but still uncertain.

“I don’t build explosives with just anyone in the oh, my, god, it’s too fucking early hours of the morning,” Tony said, and was rewarded with a tiny smile by Bruce. “I think I could make a valid case that we’ve already had at least three dates if we count mutual insomnia, and we should both totally get laid at this point.”

Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I think I’d like to try if you’re willing.”

“I’m more than willing. Now, can we get back to what we were doing before you derailed us?”

Bruce huffed a laugh, but he also scooted closer so that they could touch. Tony had been right - bare skin was _awesome_. He would have been happy to kiss and jerk each other off, but Bruce urged him over on to his other side, facing away. When Tony listened, he was rewarded with one hand running down the length of his body and then gripping his cock for a moment, and Tony liked being touched like this, liked this a lot.

Then Bruce let go of Tony’s cock, and Tony couldn’t help the little sound of disappointment. “Just a second,” Bruce said. “I have an idea.”

Bruce urged Tony to lift his top leg, and then Bruce’s cock was sliding between Tony’s thighs. Without having to be told, Tony put his leg back down and pushed them together tightly, giving Bruce a good place to thrust. He had a moment to wonder if he should get lube, and then he realized that Bruce was sliding just fine. “You’re not cut?” he asked without thinking.

“No,” Bruce said, a little breathless. “But you’re thinking too much if you can ask that.” WIth that, Bruce’s hand was back, wrapped around his cock and jerking Tony in time to Bruce’s hips.

With every thrust, Bruce nudged the head of his cock up against Tony’s balls, and the grip that he had on Tony’s cock was just about perfect. “Yeah,” Tony moaned. “That’s good, Bruce.”

“So good,” Bruce answered, and then trailed off into breathy little grunts as he thrust harder. The space between Tony’s thighs was getting slick with precome, letting Bruce slide even more smoothly. And Bruce kept up the same steady pace with his hand, jerking Tony so perfectly and sweet.

It was simple, something two teenagers would do, but it still felt awesome. The only thing that would have made it better was if they could kiss, so Tony craned his head around, trying to reach Bruce. 

Bruce didn’t seem to realize what Tony was trying to do, so Tony gasped out, “Give me a kiss,” trying not to whine as he did it. 

“Fuck,” Bruce groaned, and he shifted getting closer to Tony’s mouth. It wasn’t a great kiss - mostly their lips pressing together with no finesse - but that didn’t matter. 

Tony was so glad Bruce hadn’t gone back to his own apartment.

Behind him, Bruce started to shake, his thrusts gaining force and losing consistency, and then with a loud groan he was coming, his cock twitching between Tony’s thighs, shooting all over the back of his balls. As he trembled through the aftershocks, his hand stopped moving, and Tony tried to be patient, he really did, but he wanted to _come_.

“Bruce,” he said, and this time it was definitely a whine. “Come on, Bruce.” Tony wrapped his hand around Bruce’s, moving it up and down until Bruce seemed to catch on. When Bruce started to move, it was tighter and faster than before, like he was trying to yank the orgasm right out of Tony.

“Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god,” Tony chanted as it flared in his belly, at the base of his spine. “Just like that, Bruce. Don’t stop.”

“Not going to,” Bruce growled in his ear. “Not until you give it up for me.”

There was something about Bruce’s voice, combined with his hand on Tony’s dick, that pushed Tony right over the edge. “Fuck,” he groaned as he came hard, his cock twitching in Bruce’s hand and come getting everywhere.

Bruce loosened his grip on Tony’s cock but kept moving until Tony had to reach down and stop him because he was too sensitive. As soon as Bruce had let go, Tony rolled over to face him, not caring that he was covered in come and sticky as all hell.

Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to Bruce’s mouth, deepening it when Bruce opened his mouth for Tony’s tongue. They kissed for long minutes as their heart rates and breathing evened out. Finally, though, they broke apart with one last chaste kiss. “That was amazing,” Tony said.

“Yeah,” Bruce said, looking a little shell-shocked. “Just think what we could get up to if we were actually rested.”

“Well, then, let’s nap and see what happens.”

Bruce snorted and said, “I thought you already got me in trouble. That’s not going to stop if we’re sleeping together, is it?”

“Not on your life, Banner.”


End file.
